Summary- H.J. interrupts a very different scene in the Minutemen trophy room… AU, drabble, one-shot, Eddie/Sally, rated for language and mature content. If you don't like the pairing please don't read. Flames are the useless prattle of ignorant people.
Disclaimer- I do not own Watchmen, any of its terminology, or characters….not even Eddie, unfortunately. It all belongs to the great Alan Moore, DC, and other important people and organizations.
A/N – This is really my first foray into this degree of sexuality in a story, so I'm not sure if it's at all good or believable. I really tried to avoid writing pointless "smut" and I think I did a good job of making this about more than their physical desire for each other. What I wanted to do was get into Sally's head and find out where that division lay between loving and loathing Edward Blake. I hope I did this satisfactorily. I do enjoy exploring the relationship of these two. Though it's easy to see why people find it "wrong" or disturbing when the Eddie and Sally are shipped, I think they make a fascinating psychological challenge for a writer. Neither of them were truly good people, she had every right to hate him, as Jon said, and yet…there was some form of a relationship there…"mad love", perhaps? (to borrow a phrase from Batman) No one is debating that what Eddie did was wrong (least of all me!), but the fact that Sally somehow apparently forgave him is where, I think, the real story lies.
Sally shut the door of the trophy room with a smile and a wave and a call of "I'll catch up with you!", watching as the hulking figure of Eddie Blake lingered in the hall for a moment or two before striding off, in that brazen, cocky way of his, to join the other Minutemen at the bar. She heard his heavy footfalls in those beat-up combat boots that he never seemed to take off, saw the muscles in his thighs and back pull against the coarse fabric of the ridiculous yellow boiler suit that was his costume, and let out a sigh of frustration as she turned and walked towards the pool table in the center of the room. Eddie was without a doubt the most masculine son of a bitch she'd ever had the pleasure to lay her eyes on, but he was also just that, a son of a bitch. He had no manners, no class, no concept of the "proper" way to treat a lady, and had a devilish sense of humor that often seemed to border on sadistic lunacy.
He flew into violent rages for no apparent reason, made crude and blatantly erotic remarks to almost anyone with breasts, and cussed at her and everyone else so regularly and degradingly that the Captain had more than once been forced to threaten him with expulsion from their "organization". Most of the time, such warnings were only acknowledged (if he chose to respond to them at all) with a smart ass remark and trademark sneer; that sneer that cocked his heavy eyebrows, squinted those dark eyes, and turned up just half of that smooth mouth into a toothless grin. Sometimes, most of the time, Sally was so damn angry with Blake and his self-important jackass ways that she wanted to land a left hook right into that screwed up little mug and see how witty he felt then. But, rarely, there were times when she felt something else entirely, and that made her want to punch herself in the face. Just five minutes ago, he'd looked down at her with that same little smirk,
"Lemme take a look an' see if I can fish 'em out for ya…"
She'd struck him then, but not in the face. She'd swatted his shoulder and giggled like a flirty schoolgirl, and why? How was it that in that moment his smirk had sent a prickling sort of flash all over her skin?
Sally furrowed her brows and pulled off her dress a little more forcefully than was necessary. It wasn't that she was surprised she was attracted to him. He was handsome, strong, and just downright sexy in that roguish way of his. No, she knew she had every right to want him, like she did. She knew that it was only normal that she had more than once found herself wondering what he looked like under all of that obnoxious clothing. She also knew she wasn't alone in her feelings. Eddie had women all the time, much as she often had her various…gentleman callers. She knew she could have him too, any time she wanted. He made it clear on an infuriatingly regular basis just how aroused he was by her. He'd propositioned her several times in anything but subtle ways, and each time she'd refused with growing vehemence. Because, it wasn't her physical attraction to Eddie Blake that made Sally bite her lips now in aggravation as she thought it all over, it was just how attracted she was to him. It was the fact that, somehow, her attraction went beyond wanting him in her bed. It was the fact that she knew that sleeping with him once or twice wouldn't be enough.
Somehow, Blake made her feel weak in the knees; disgustingly giddy and childish, like he had just moments ago, made her feel "butterflies" in the pit of her gut, even, if she wasn't careful and on her guard. She allowed Blake, his very presence in a room, to make her feel somehow needy, typically feminine, weak. After all those years of swearing never to become any man's plaything, to never need sheltering or protection, to never feel like she was under anyone's power, she'd now let just the feel of Eddie's eyes on her make her breath catch in her throat. It was beyond infuriating, it made her livid, made her feel like a fool, and so she rejected him and, most of the time, made every outward appearance of hating him and his lascivious advances. Internally, however, she knew she still wanted him like hell, and that it would probably only be a matter of time before she found a way to give in to him…but on her terms. The simple fact that she had to put so much damn thought into how she acted around this man only angered her further, and she let out her breath in a soft hiss, shaking her head, oblivious to the door being cracked open behind her.
"Hi."
Sally froze, half bent over, fingers resting on the laces of her boots. It was Eddie's deep voice that had sounded from beside the door. Heart throbbing somewhere in her neck, she straightened up and spun around. Her eyes landed immediately on Blake, lounging, with one shoulder propped against the wall, arms akimbo, that damn grin plastered on his face. At once she became very aware that she was standing in front of him in nothing more than her boots and underclothes, and quickly turned back around to face the pool table saying in as angry a voice as she could muster,
"What the hell are you doing here? You knew I was changing."
Meanwhile, she was hoping he hadn't caught her blushing, didn't notice her trembling, even if it was only slightly. It was as though he'd been laying in wait, somehow listening to every one of her thoughts, and knew to come in at just that moment, like it had been a cue. The whole situation had taken on an almost surreal quality.
"Sure I did…you announced it loud enough."
She heard his deliberate, confident steps as he moved closer to her, but didn't turn around, she wasn't sure if she'd be able to put on a face that sufficiently hid the anticipation in her eyes. He stopped just behind her, almost touching her, but not quite. For a moment neither of them moved a muscle. Sally could smell his cologne and cigar smoke mixed with a hint of the whiskey on his breath, could feel on her back the body heat that his broad chest gave off, hoping desperately that he couldn't hear that her heart was obviously racing. When he finally spoke, his voice was even deeper than usual, and he was so close she could feel his breath flutter against her hair.
"C'mon baby…I know what you need. You gotta have some reason for dressing in an outfit like this…"
It took a terrible amount of self control on Sally's part not to gasp when she felt his lips press lightly against her neck. For a moment or two, she was frozen again, and she let him kiss her in that surprisingly gentle way two, three, four times more before she jerked her head to the side and said, with far more conviction than she felt,
"I said no, Eddie."
When he replied, she could almost hear the smirk that she was sure was on his face as he slid his hands onto her hips, pulling her towards him with no small amount of force, and bent his head so he spoke into her left ear,
"Sure…'no' spelled Y-E-S."
There was a moment of silence, in which Sally's thoughts raced and half of her mind wanted to throw her fist into his face and break his nose, or scratch a good, bloody welt down the side of that handsome jaw, for daring to voice the concerns and contradictions that had been plaguing her just moments before, while the rest of her brain wanted to lean even further into his solid frame and feel his mouth on her neck again. After what seemed like an eternity of silent indecision, Sally spun around quickly, very aware that his hands still lingered about her waist, and made a move to prepare to lash out at the face that was, of course, smirking at her. Then, her furious blue eyes met his glowing dark ones, and she found her self, unbelievably, faltering, as the thought flitted across her mind that she'd never seen his eyes this closely before and that they were really quite beautiful. He spoke again during her moment of hesitation,
"Sal…you look fuckin' gorgeous when you're all worked up, ya know?"
He chuckled, a deep rumbling sound, and Sally felt a lump rise in her throat as she lowered her hand, slowly. She stared him down, glaring into those admittedly beautiful black eyes as she never had before. She was furious beyond the point of being able to act on it, furious at Eddie and the fact that the bastard would pull something like this and, more importantly, furious at herself for just standing there like the dumb bitch that she obviously was, letting herself ache with desire for him despite everything else she was feeling. She didn't even fight as he pulled her closer still, her breasts brushing against his chest.
"I know you want this…" he growled, dipping his head to her neck again, pressing his lips against her collarbone, this time running his teeth along the skin and eliciting a little gasp from Sally. She was in no position to deny his claim. She felt somehow defeated and, at once, desperately vindictive, digging her nails into his arms but not pushing him away. He lifted his head at the painful gesture and looked at her with a somewhat devilish grin.
"You're a bastard." She said, clearly meaning it, but in a husky tone that gave away the fact that she no longer really cared. Yes, he was Eddie Blake who insulted her and infuriated her and made her feel weak, but at this moment she wanted him too badly to keep denying him…and herself. However, if she was finally going to give into this, she was going to make sure he still knew she wasn't his toy. As he pressed his lips forcefully against hers, pulling her thin figure flush against his own, she returned his kiss with even more violence, meanwhile weaving her fingers into his thick black hair and giving it a satisfying pull. He laughed darkly again and, breathing raggedly, lifted her up to perch on the edge of the pool table.
While they continued their furious assault upon each other's lips, Eddie uncooked her garters and let her fishnets slide down towards her ankles. Moving his mouth again to her neck, nipping her and probably leaving one of those universally recognizable purple blotches, he ran his calloused hands higher and higher up her thighs. Sally, meanwhile, ran her nails along his neck and what she could reach of his shoulders under the collar of his boiler suit, and hooked one of her feet around his right knee, causing him to stumble closer to her. Suddenly his lips grazed the top of her breast and she let out a whimpering little cry and pulled him, forcefully, closer still.
Neither heard the sound of footsteps in the hall, nor did they notice when whoever was there stopped just outside the trophy room and peered inside. In fact, Eddie and Sally only realized they'd been found out when the towering figure of Hooded Justice strode quickly into the room, exclaiming in that peculiar accent,
"What the hell are you doing to her, you little bastard?!?"
Eddie broke away from her instantly and turned to face the intruder, still panting heavily. Sally remained balanced on the polished wood of the table, dazed and shivering. She found herself wondering exactly the same thing as H.J., what had he been doing to her? He'd been kissing and touching her, but there was more to it than that. He hadn't been being gentle or soft, that was for sure; but, at the same time, he'd been driving her mad and making her match him move for move. It had been like a fight without fists, in a way, and it had been strangely exhilarating in the way that Sally had never felt being with any other man. It had been a struggle of passion and anger that, while bizarre, had felt unbelievably good, almost right. For reasons she wasn't yet sure of, that thought frightened her.
She was brought back to reality a moment later, however, by the sound of H.J.'s huge fist colliding with the side of Eddie's face. Blake growled and made to run at the masked man, but Sally flitted quickly over to them and intervened shouting,
"Hey, cut it out!" she shot both men a vicious look before turning to the Russian and continuing quickly, "H.J., it's….look, it's fine. Really…it's…we…you just came in at a bad time."
She cringed inwardly once she had said it, knowing it sounded ridiculous. It was quiet for a moment, the only sound to be heard was that of Eddie cracking his knuckles nervously. H.J. looked down at her, his eyes dark and accusatory through the holes in his hood.
"Well," he said finally, his voice biting, "if that is the case I suppose I'll see at the bar, in a few minutes." He let that last phrase hang ominously, as though there were really no other option but to promptly make an appearance at the little establishment that had already become renowned as the favored watering hole of the Minutemen. Without another word, Hooded Justice turned on his heel and walked swiftly out of the room. Again, Eddie and Sally were alone.
Eddie's face transformed into another of his manic smirks as he laughed heartily, rubbing the side of his face that was quickly turning black and blue, and sauntering over to Sally as though nothing had happened.
"Oh, he's a piece of work, that one," he laughed, "Ya know what I heard about him? I…"
Sally, meanwhile, was glaring at him again. Partially, because her anger from before was bubbling up again; partially, because she hated the way he was looking at her now, like they shared some private joke; partially, because she hated the way his looking at her like that made her feel; and partially, because she knew she wasn't going to be able to feel his kisses again tonight, and that was ridiculously frustrating. And so, she did the one thing that felt appropriate at that moment, she raised a hand and slapped him full across the face, hard, right on top of the bruise H.J. had just given him. He stopped mid-sentence, a look of confusion momentarily flitting across his face, before he fell back on the lunatic sense of humor that had given him his alias and began to laugh. Equally frustrated with this reaction, Sally glared at him a moment longer before, unable to handle the surreal contradiction of the whole situation any longer, she pulled his face to hers and gave him one hard, vicious kiss, threw on her coat that had been draped over a nearby chair and all but ran from the room, leaving a momentarily silent Edward Blake in her wake.
Fin.
That was much longer than I thought it would be! If you liked it and would like me to write more about this screwed-up little pair, please review and let me know! :o)